StarWars: An Unexpected Bounty
by Kidnapkid
Summary: Boba Fett is the star of this genre bending adventure. Set during the events of A New Hope, we follow the galaxy's infamous Bounty Hunter as we find out how he became irrecoverably entwined with event's that would take down the Empire. Xover, lemon, OCs
1. Intro

(A/N: I don't own StarWars or Boba Fett.)

A Long Time Ago In A Galaxy Not So Far Away...

StarWars  
An Unexpected Bounty

(A/N: Eventually, I'm going to write a StarWars-esque scrolling introduction and place it here. I have a really good outline for where this story is going to go, but like Lucas I haven't thought much about a back story. When I take the time to make something up I'll replace this author's note.

For now I'll just give you a bit of back story about the story it's self. I like StarWars, I'm not however one of those fan's that knows everything about the universe. I'm trying to stick to canon as much as possible, and am looking things up as I go. That being said, Boba Fett is my favorite character. I've had a crush on him for years. The mask maybe, or being such a badass, I dunno, Fett's awesome. *sigh*

This story is meant to take place during the events of 'A New Hope'. Since Boba wasn't in that movie, this is basically my idea of what he could have been up to. It's going to be a bit of a Lemon. There aren't enough Boba Fett Lemons out there so I'm writing this in the true spirit of Fan Service. I'll do my best to make it not OBVIOUS. I'm also following Boba during the narrative. I've been listening to a lot of Shirley Bassey and I'm feeling dramatic. Bond music seems to fit Fett, so I'm going for an Action Adventure Romance, 'Jewel of the Space Nile' type of thing. I'm going to throw in some surprise guest stars/planets. (I don't own them either!) Again, all in the name of Fan Service. Knowing me, it'll probably be kinda funny too. (I would not be surprised if you recognize a bit of Meyer's Fett in this. I don't think I'll be able to resist the temptation.)

This is also a bit of a first for me. I'm writing this little story on my phone! Mostly on the go. I don't have a beta, but I'm running it thru a couple of spell/grammar checks before I post. I hope to update as often as I can. Reviews are welcome. Love it Hate it? Tell me why.

One last quick bit of self promotion. I have a sweet Boba Fett music video on youtube. Just search "Fett's Vett vs Robot Chicken" and look for the name Kidnapkid. If you like funny things, and Boba Fett in his undies, you'll like the video. *wink*

~Kidnapkid


	2. Dog Fight

**2: Dog Fight**

Boba Fett knew he was in trouble. The cargo bay of his ship, Slave I, had been hit with a particularly strong blast of laser cannon fire. As a result, a small yellow light on the control panel was blinking in mute outrage. Down below in the cargo bay, where the small holding cells were located, Fett's Hard Merchandise found himself in jeopardy of loosing his life, fast. A small breach in the hull was quickly causing the part of the hold to depressurize. Fett could see (if not hear) the Captain's shouts for help over his helmet's virtual communication and security system. He pressed a few buttons on a keypad to the far right on his flight board and a panel slid open in the Captain's cell to reveal an emergency oxygen suit. Fett didn't have any more time to think about his bounty, behind his mask he frowned as laser fire continued to blast past his ship.

His gloved hand flashed across the ship's controls, and his grip on the stick never faltered, causing the craft to wheel and turn while zipping thru space. Fett knew he'd never make a jump to hyperspace with his hull breached, but he wasn't about to let a small band of overzealous space pirates take him down either. Fett spun the dials of the ship's rear defense system launching a burst torpedo, creating a small field of magnetized iron pellets. His Hard Merchandise's loyal crew would have a difficult time flying thru without some damage to the smaller starfighters. He reached above his head with his left hand, flipped a switch and entered a code on a near by pad. The view inside Fett's helmet changed. A hologram targeting system swam into view of his expressive brown eyes, merging perfectly with the outward view from his T shaped visor. A soft beep indicated that his ion cannon had completed it's power up cycle and Boba Fett's fingers itched, he wanted a target.

With a mischievous grin he griped the flight controls, pumped a floor pedal with his left foot, simultaneously performing an inverted V maneuver with his flight stick. The result, if viewed from space, saw the Slave I tack downward while the rear propulsion unit of the Firespray came about, presenting the fragile bellies of the two starfighters as they flew above Slave I.  
As soon as the first ship went streaking past his targeting system locked with good tone. A shift in focus and a blink from Boba Fett sent a single blast of green ion slamming into the first starfighter. It burst in a fiery explosion of metal and fuel sending a million fragments of so much smoldering rubble floating out into space. He smiled again, wickedly, as the second ship beat a hasty retreat. Fett again reached above him to enter the code that would power down his ion cannon. Another shift in his focus, a quick wink and the previously one way communication of his comm system was suddenly broadcasting his cold augmented voice into the holds.

"Your crew's given you up, Captain Masterson. The only one going to rescue you today, is me."

He didn't wait for Masterson's reply, he knew he had to patch the pressure leak in the holds quickly before his merchandise perished in the vacuum of space, or his ship collapsed in on it's self. He engaged partial autopilot, while keeping an eye on trajectory and obstacles, including more pirates, via his helmet. He made his way from the small two person cockpit down a short ladder. On the right were sliding doors to his modest captain's quarters, below that was his fresher. The left side held the doors to his tiny galley and large magazine. At the bottom of the tunnel was another sliding door that, in turn, led down to the small cargo hold.

Fett entered the magazine. He didn't have time to look at his weapons display, though he did find pride in them. It was quite a collection and nearly every piece, from blasters to armor were Mandalorian craftsmanship. Boba Fett didn't even stop to admire his favorite jet pack, he headed straight for a tall red cabinet secured in a back corner of the room. Pulling out the third shelf from the bottom he rifled around until he found a tube of 'Simple Salvage Sealant' and a dispenser. He slammed the tube into the dispensing gun as he quickly moved out of the room and back down the ladder, stopping above the closed door. He used the movement of his eyes to activate the secondary breathing aid within his helmet. This precaution quickly completed, Fett touched a keypad, and the door slid open. Air, being sucked into the depleted holds rushed past him. A tempest of wind, rarely felt in space, caused his terry cloth shoulder cape to whip and flutter about. He paid it no mind as he descended the ladder into the hold, the door closed above him.

Captain Masterson, or "Blue Blast Mast" as he was known in some, less than savory, circles, immediately started shouting at Fett. Mostly, because it was the only way to be heard, the blast hole from the lucky pirate's cannon was just round enough to cause the most ear piercing whistle. Fett's helmet immediately dampened the noise without even a thought. Masterson, however, was not wearing a Mandalorian battle helmet and could only shove his hands against his covered ears. He had donned the taupe oxygen suit over his clothes and looked bulky and miserable. The temperature had plummeted within the hold and Masterson was propped against the corner of his cell shivering against the wind.

"You got to get me outta here Fett! I'm gonna get sucked inta' space! I'm gonna freeze! Fett! Fett, man! Let Me Out! I can help! Fett!"

The pirate was duly ignored as Boba Fett began unstrapping a large plastic container secured to the wall. Another few moments, and one really good shove, and Fett's helmet was scanning the blast hole and searching for any stress fractures in the damaged hull. Satisfied that the damage wasn't spreading, he inserted the nozzle of the caulking gun and released the quick sealant directly into the hole. Fett's ears popped as the hole was plugged and the hold became eerily quiet.

"Fett!" Masterson's gasp came out shallow and distorted thru his breathing mask. He was watching the bounty hunter with wide eyes. The man didn't appear to be looking at him, but you never knew with Fett. A crackling sound could be heard throughout the cabin. Fett nodded as if he had been waiting for the noise. Slowly, without moving his body, Fett's helmet turned towards Masterson. The silence in the room coupled with that helmet's seemingly unbroken stare the Captain felt the cold shiver of fear run the back of his neck all the way down his spine. He gulped. Fett must have noticed because his helmet moved minutely. Masterson had the distinct impression he was being laughed at, though he heard nothing.

Boba couldn't help but be amused by his Hard Merchandise's obvious fear. Thinking to himself that this might be a good time to further intimidate his captive he purposefully strode towards the small cell, stopping only a foot away. Captain Masterson had plastered himself against the far wall. He desperately wished there was something to hide under.

"I'm going to land for repairs before your delivery. You will not leave this cell. You will behave. I will drug you if I have to."

It was a long speech for the hunter. Masterson nodded his compliance in an idiotic manner. Fett didn't have to tell him a hyperspace jump would be impossible with a hull breach. They'd both be lucky to land on a planet without the quick fix burning up on entry. There were several layers to Slave I's entire ship. Designed to take and recover from small impacts of space rubble and shielded, for the most part, from blaster fire.

All that meant to Fett was the need for some external ship reconnaissance. The damage on the outside might be much larger than the small hole here in the cargo bay.

_'Where did I put that welding droid?' _He thought to himself as the scanned the contents of his holds. It was a narrow place, but Fett had managed to create a bit of floor room with clever organization. White plastic container bins were lashed all around the four walls. Two cells were located admists the organized storage cabinets. They were high tech containment units. Low maintenance, and designed to function with the maneuverability of Slave I's propulsion system. Fett was looking at a container lashed to the wall just above them. His cued his helmet and switched to x-ray briefly to scan the cabinet's contents. He spotted his droid almost immediately. The TW-62 was a traction welding unit with little independent thought. (Boba wasn't necessarily fond of droids that thought to much.) The machine was designed for deep space repairs. It's three segment design all housing the tools that would enable it to perform vacuum repairs that would be dangerous for most planet formed sentient beings. Fett sat it down and flipped it's on switch. An antenna with a camera eye popped up and the droid beeped several times. He seemed to be starring down at the droid, but in reality he was once again using his helmet as an interface between himself and the droid. His antenna was sending blueprints of Slave I's design, rough estimate of damage location, and finally, instructions to repair the damage. The droid beeped again upon receipt of transmission, flashed a green light, and rolled off towards a tiny maintenance hatch. Then it was gone. Not a word had been spoken in over five basic minuets. With the droid off, Fett's attention once again returned to his bounty.

"It will be twenty odd minuets before this cabin's oxygen level is normal. I advise you to leave the suit on."

"Why the concern? I suppose I'm worth more alive, maybe?" Captain Masterson meant to sound brave, but his face was a sickly green colour that had nothing to do with genetics. Overall he was humanoid in appearance, but looked as if he could be ill at any moment. Ignoring him, Fett turned on his heel, dismissing any comment his merchandise might have made and ascended the ladder out of the holds. He returned to his comfortable seat in the cockpit. Fett rotated his helmet's security system. Where before it had been watching space, and the ship's movements thru it, now it's focus was the interior, specifically the cells. Fett made a few adjustments with his eyes and a camera turned deep within the holds to focus on the patch. Boba liked to keep an eye on everything. He sighed deeply when he realized he hadn't remembered to re-secure the white crate.

Thinking to himself, '_A Bounty Hunter's work is never done. I'll tie it off again later. Right now, I need to find a friendly port.'_ He keyed something up on a keypad and a holo of his location appeared in the space above the dash. Fett was thinking fast, using his helmet to navigate the virtual plane. _'What I need is a port that won't ask any questions. I'm on the Outer Rim, shouldn't be... There Tatooine; Class-M.'_

Fett reached across to the empty co-pilot's seat and opened the glove box, which he kept around just for this purpose, and pulled out a banged up flat book. Keying in the name Tatooine and hitting search he came back with one positive result. Tapping the prompt the 'book' began speaking.

_"Tatooine, is a small desert planet located along the Outer Rim. It's populated by moisture farmers, wild savages called Tuskans or Sand People, and small Jawas that act as scavengers and traders. Tattooine has two major port cities. Mos Espa and Mos Eisley._

If Tatooine had a sparkling jewel hidden within it's dusty sand it would not be in either of these cities. _Mos Espa is the Empire's seat on Tatooine and although the base is small the entire planet depends on the Empire's judgment in regards to law keeping._

Perhaps because of this Mos Eisley is growing a reputation for a particular brand of lawlessness normally associated with large organized crime syndicates. Guns, drugs, slaves, and other illicit goods pass in and out of Mos Eisley on a daily basis.

The local restaurants are particularly rustic, aside from a few local lizard-type dishes almost all of the planets food is imported. Tatooine's only exports are mineral related. A good portion of the planet's economic industry revolves around H2O sales, conservation, and farming.

When taking a tour of the galaxy this author strongly suggests skipping this planet. It's a depraved den of heat, dust, and crime."

Boba smiled behind his mask. _'Sounds like my kind of place.'_

(To be continued.)


	3. On to Tatooine

**3: On to Tatooine**

Without the option of cruising hyperspace it took the Slave I ninety-eight hours to reach Tatooine. Not one to rush in without doing his research, Fett was currently in a high orbit above the planet practicing one of his favorite hobbies, spying. For the past three hours he had been relaxing in the cockpit, linked into several of the planet's communication satellites scanning broadcasts for information.

Eavesdropping on Storm Trooper chatter being transmitted to and from the twin cities, he was vaguely interested in the amount of negative reports coming out of Eisley. The cause wasn't easily definable, but something was definitely happening in Mos Eisley. He began to pick out individual voices over the airways, each coming back with a negative quadrant report.

_'They're looking for something.' _He thought to himself as it hit him. _'I wonder what that's about?'_ He occasionally worked for the Empire, but found most of the higher officers to be nothing more than stuffed uniforms, corrupted by power. Quick to try and skip on a payment or scam him outright. Every time the Empire wanted something from him, he got the contract in writing, in triplicate, notarized, with witnesses present, in front of a judge. And Still! Every time an official from the Empire contracted him, they always seemed to want to alter the deal. Less payment, added provisos, changing delivery locations, some times multiple times. It was maddening, even to Fett, who knew himself to be a patient man. Constantly trying to shift details of a contract was repulsive. To Boba, a contract was a matter of honor. He wasn't renowned as one of the galaxy's best Bounty Hunters for nothing. He had never failed to deliver Hard Merchandise. Cheated the system once or twice, yes, but fail to deliver, never.

Still, Fett didn't fancy the thought of dealing with the hassle of an Imperial inspection squad snooping around on board, which would happen if he signed on with them for any reason. No, best to stay away from Mos Espa with Hard Merchandise on board. He'd leave the Empire alone until they posted a bounty worth his time.

Fett was still dialing through Mos Eisley's radio chatter an hour later, scanning lightly, lost in his musings about what the Empire could be up to, when he picked up an interplanetary signal from a brother-in-arms. The Bounty Hunter, Bossk, was sending a coded signal from orbit to someone on planet. Fett knew him in passing thru the Bounty Hunter's Guild, and knew he had fairly steady work from one of the Hutt clans that inhabited and controlled a large portion of the Outer Rim. He hailed his rival, aiming a coded transmission of his own to Bossk's ship.

"Hound's Tooth come in. Do you read. Slave I to Hound's Tooth." A small screen lit up on the control panel flickering into life to reveal the toothy frown of the Trandoshan King.

"Fett! Is that you? What are you doing in this quadrant?" Bossk's voice was a mixture of hisses and guttural growling because his reptilian attributes were poorly constructed for a true mastery of Basic. (Although, his physical limitations never stopped him practicing.) His yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion and distrust, presumably at a similar screen on his ship which displayed Fett's masked visage, expressionless and intimidating as only his helmet could be.

"Aww Boss, is that anyway to great you're 'ol buddy Boba?" His voice augmentation software did little to make his words sound chipper. Bossk visibly gulped on screen and Boba fought the urge to laugh. He loved having the ability to intimidate a rival Bounty Hunter. It always gave him a thrill when he caused peers discomfort.

"What do you want Fett?" Bossk managed to hiss without too much mistrust leaking into his drawl.

"A friendly port." He answered, casually leaning back within view of the camera to inspect his gloved hand. Picking off an imaginary piece of lint. Bossk's whole body seemed to relax muscle to muscle in response to Fett's casual manner, and he slumped forward a bit grinning.

"Is that all!" Bossk exclaimed relieved.

"Not quite," Fett responded leaning forward again. "I also need a Guild approved mechanic. Do you know if there's anyone on Tatooine?"

"Ship's damaged ehh? Who's been shooting at you, huh, Fett?"

"Ran into some space rubble, I was just out for a cruise. Do you know a mechanic or not?" Fett was evasive about fighting with the pirates and forceful about needing a mechanic. He didn't want Bossk to know he had Hard Merchandise aboard. Bossk didn't necessarily have a reputation for bounty snatching, but Fett wasn't going to take any chances. It was known to happen from time to time even within the Guild. Fett had experienced several attempted bounty kidnappings when he was younger and still green. Now, it would take an absurdly stupid rival hunter to even try, or someone with a lot of power and disposable lives.

"Okay, okay," Bossk croaked. "There's a girl in Mos Eisley, outside of Jabba's palace. She's not Guild approved, per say. She works for Jabba. He keeps her around cos she's really good with obsolete ships. Some kind of tech genius. I had her work on my ship before. Seems competent for a humanoid."

Fett ignored the jibe about his ship being obsolete. "A girl? Working for Jabba? As in, the Hutt? I didn't realize he was stationed on Tatooine. What's he up to this far outside Hutt space?" Fett was wondering if Jabba had anything to do with the Storm Trooper activity on surface.

"Now don't go getting any big ideas!" Bossk interrupted, getting excited and hissing. "Every time you show up, I miss out on opportunities, bad things happen to everyone except you! And I lose money!"

"That hurts Bossk, I can't help it if I make everyone look bad." Snide.

"You could take a vacation. That might help." Equally snide.

"I am on vacation." Fett lied coldly. "I came to Tatooine to work on my tan. It just looked so lovely from space, a real resort town." Fett gazed down on Tatooine. It did not resemble a resort. It looked like a dirty brown ball floating in space.

"It's not much better on planet." Bossk grumbled, chuckling in concurrence with Fett's sarcasm. "Look, I'll send you the coordinates where I'm anchoring. Feel like meeting Jabba? He'd put a bounty on my head If he finds out you were on Tatooine and I didn't bring you for introductions."

"Alright. It'll kill time anyway. Mechanic first though." Fett agreed. _'Any port in a storm, I suppose.'_ He thought to himself as his ship's computer received Bossk's information.

-  
Boba Fett managed to land Slave I without burning up in Tatooine's atmosphere. He hadn't truly been worried. His welding droid was excellent, but landing in a damaged ship was always unnerving, even to a cool customer like Fett. Sliding off his back and walking down a hallway he normally climbed down Fett crossed into the cargo holds. Captain Masterson was tangled in straps that had previously been holding him to the floor during landing. He seemed a bit confused by the sudden shift in gravity. Hidden by his mask, Boba smiled. The design of his Firespray craft made landing an awkward experience for someone not completely at ease with his ship's quirky mannerisms.

"Captain Masterson," Fett addressed his captive. "I'm going out for a while. I need you to stay here and behave."

"Anything you want." Masterson growled as he struggled to stand.

"I make sure I get what I want." Fett said in a deeply chilling manner, his voice augmentation adding a cold disconnected element. Masterson snapped his head at him with fear, just in time to see Boba Fett point his fist at him, a puff of air form his gauntlet was all he registered as a dart lodged itself into his shoulder.

"Whaaa..." Was the only sound the Captain could make before a drug induced drowsiness pulled him into an artificial slumber and he slumped down on the floor in a puddle of pirate.

With his merchandise safely unconscious, he opened a storage container and pulled out a short linen poncho striped horizontally in earthy tans and browns. The hem and sleeves were tattered, and several patches mended the fabric in several places. He wouldn't wear it with the hood up on Tatooine, his reputation would serve to protect him here, but it was also wise not to advertise one's weaponry on a potentially hostile planet. After closing the storage unit, Fett activated the controls that opened the door to the ships loading ramp. Then, he strolled out into a sweltering hot, early Mos Eisley evening. As the ship's door returned to its closed position Fett felt the added heat of an approaching craft thru his armor and felt his cloak whipping around his thighs in a current of hot air. Bossk was landing. He watched as the Trandoshan maneuvered the Hound's Tooth into a position near Slave I on the landing pad. Near by stood a rusted, pitted, and altogether eroding, tin hanger.

Fett would come to learn, rather quickly, that metal buildings were rare on Tatooine. They couldn't withstand the constant barrage of wind, sand and frost. Most lodgings consisted of a small daub and wattle adobe structures, domes, cubes, and the occasional pyramid dotted the cities and little pockets of them drifted off into the desert. All of these strange small structures were entrance openings that led down to larger living quarters dug below ground, carved out of Tatooine's soft sandstone. They were smart dwellings, using the depths to help regulate the temperatures on a world that burned during the day and froze with a thin layer of frost at night. The cities and larger builds therein were predominately sandstone covered in daub, and they too would often extend downward.

At this moment, also traveling downward, Bossk was descending his own craft's ramp and strolling towards the cold hunter. Fett meet him halfway across the tarmac with a strong handshake. Anyone looking might have supposed they were friends.

"Fett!" Bossk exclaimed with a hiss. "What the frep happened to your ship!" He seemed genuinely concerned.

Fett looked behind him. The top of Slave I's lower hull had been blackened by blaster fire, and an ugly metal patch covered a medium sized portion of the craft. "I may have had a slight altercation." He conceded to Bossk.

"I hope you left the other guy in worse shape?" Bossk grinned gruesomely showing off his fangs. "I know how you hate lose ends."

"Something like that." Fett answered cold, refusing to gossip about his exploits to Bossk. There was a long pause while the nosy hunter waited to see if Fett would volunteer any information.

"Okay, okay I get it. Fine, don't tell me what happened. You want to grab a drink? There's this new canteena 'The Bantering Jawa' not to far..."

"Boss." Deadpan.

"Yes?" Nervous.

"Mechanic, Bossk. I don't have time to spend on Tatooine." Boba wanted to snap his fingers at him, but reminded himself to play it cold. "Something isn't right on this dust ball, and I have other places to be."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. You're always so grim Fett. It's always business with you. Come on, the shop is a few blocks past the canteena. They walked in silence for only a block. "What did you mean about something not 'right' on planet?"

Fett stopped them at a crosswalk, "Look around Boss, this place is crawling with Fuzz."

(To be continued.)

_(A/N; I don't own StarWars, I just play with the action figures. It was pointed out to me that in canon Mr. Fett never talks to himself. I've fixed some small things in the first two chapters to reflect this. If he seems a little OOC otherwise, (to chatty) you can blame Breckin Meyers. Sorry this chapter is so short, but believe me, I've set quite a lot up with his lil bit. Please R&R) _


	4. Stormtrooper in Drag

**4: Storm Trooper in Drag**  
Tatooine: A Little Bit Earlier...

Gary, was hot. More than hot, he was baking, roasting alive, fire from the eyeballs, flesh pealing away from the bones in charred clumps, up like a match stick HOT. Okay, maybe he wasn't quite that hot, but he did feel like he was walking around in a hundred plus degrees wearing a white plastic trashcan and black rubber suit with no way to breath properly. He could feel the sweat dripping down his body into his shoes. There was a soft squelching sound ever time he took a step. His partner, Dominik, was just as miserable as himself.

Two days ago Gary had gotten a sudden transfer. Without much information to go on he, and a number of other white bucket-heads, traveled thru hyperspace to the very edge of the Empire. Now he was stuck on the utterly unpleasant, scorching hot planet of sand scrubbed Tatooine, searching in vain for two missing droids, along with every other Stormtrooper on planet. He wanted to be back in space on a nice climate controlled space transport. Yes, a lovely cool draft of crisp cold air, oh what a treat that would be. Lost in his visions of recirculating air he didn't hear his partner calling his name, until he felt a rap on his helmet.

"Yo Gary, where are you, man?"

"Sorry Dominik. I was thinking about space air. Man, it is _hot_ on this planet. How do people live here?"

"Never mind all that, let's check this place out. Those droids might be in there." Dominik thumbed across the street to "the Bantering Jawa."

"But they don't serve droids at this canteena!" Gary started to protest.

"Shut up Gary, let's get a drink. I seriously need to hydrate, man."

"Excellent point! I've been seeing two of everything for, I don't know, like, hours. I wonder if I shoulda been lookin' for two droids or four?"

"Are you for real! Gary man, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on. Do you think I can afford water here?"

They entered the smokey establishment single file with Dominik in the lead and Gary wearily trooping behind him. Theirs was not an unusual partnership within the ranks of Stormtroopers insomuch as they didn't really know each other at all, and had in fact only met yesterday when, the long time stationed, Dominik was paired with, Tatooine, green horn Gary.

The scene inside the bar was typical of a back galaxy melting pot. Dozens of races clustered around the bar and sat at surrounding tables. The noise level was loud with multiple language pockets each trying to shout over the others. A small band played a lively tune near one of the corners. Several patrons glanced in the two Stormtroopers direction. There may have been an angry or mistrustful twinkle in one or two pairs of eyes, but on the whole the people of Mos Eisley were growing accustomed to occasionally being overrun with Stormtroopers on leave. (Eager to visit the only other city on the planet.) And to them Dom and Gazza's presence was barely remarked upon.

"You realize if we can't afford water, we're going to have to buy alcohol. Think they sell anything normal?" Gary asked Dominik in all sincerity while sliding into a booth seat near the back. Dominik just chuckled.

The bar didn't actually even sell H2O, So Dominik asked for the cheapest drink on the menu. The barkeep came back with a bottle of Peach Schnapps and gave it to them along with two glasses and took half their credits. Neither Gazza nor Dom had any idea what peach was, but they both agreed it tasted like candy.

They had been there for a little over an hour, Dominik making fun of Garry for not taking his helmet off and drinking with a straw. While Gary reminded him they were already breaking one massive rule by drinking on patrol, no need to add an identity to the crime. They could both wind up doing some serious brig time if caught. Snickering over their half empty bottle, they didn't immediately feel the sudden hush that went out across the bar but they weren't exactly the last to notice either.

"Oh! Frack! Dom. DOM!"

"Ouch! Quit elbow'n me Gazza!"

"Look, _look_!" Gary stage whispered nudging his partner, indeed with his elbow."It's Boba Fett!" Dom was sure that if he could see under Gary's helmet he'd be met with the wide eyed grin presented of any school age boy who just saw a Super Hero come to life. As Fett stood just beyond the entrance his famous T shaped helmet coldly scanned the crowd as his gaze swept past Gazza and Dom, Gary seemed to shrink behind the booth so that only his bobble looking helmet could be seen above the dark bench. "He's _so_ cool!" He again whispered loudly to Dom. "Do you think he'd sign my helmet?"

"Man, you better shut up. We are not even supposed to be here. How you going to explain coming back to the barracks in Espa with Boba Fett scrawled all over your bucket? Much less actually talk to him."

"I brought an extra with me, it's in with my kit at the barracks. I'll switch to it and then mail the signed one home to my wife and little girl."

"That's actually not a bad idea. Hey, who's Fett with? You're the big fan."

"Hum," Gary pondered after taking another swig of the candy liquor. "You know, I think it's the King of the Trandoshans, Bossak. He's a bounty hunter too."

"A King! Wow, and a bounty hunter. Wonder why they're here of all places? Do you think the Emperor put a bounty on the droids?"

"I dunno, maybe, they want them bad enough to throw a bunch of man power at them. It's expensive to transport troops. Get a bounty hunter to do the job, it's a one time fee you only have to pay if he succeeds. Troops you have to feed, clothe, pay. Would make sense."

Meanwhile...

Boba Fett eyed the canteena with dismay. He and Bossak had struck out at the mechanics. A large painted sign hung against one of the closed garage doors read, "Out On Job. Please Call Again" In about ten different languages. At which point Bossak had finally whinged enough to convince Fett to go to the canteena for a drink. They'd kill some time then check to see if she had come back. After they entered, during the hush Fett's presence seemed to cause he scanned the room with his helmet, taking note of the many patrons who carried weapons. Two Stormtroopers were sitting in a booth near the back. As one shrank behind the booth, Fett wondered if they were on duty.

"Boss!" Fett said not shouting exactly, but in a very abrupt manner, "I can't believe I let you drag me here." But he led the way to the bar, all the same, Bossak following his heels like a puppy, or pet alligator, snap snap."

"What this is a nice place. There's another place, other side of town, I pick bountys up there every week! Place is a nest of pirates and smugglers, ships for sale."

"Hum." Was all Bossak got in reply.

"Fine, be taciturn. But I tell you, pick any planet on the Outter Rim and there's bound to be a few wanted on it."

"Sure Boss, but are they worth my time? Petty thieves and spice merchants?"

"What Do you look for in a job Fett?"

"A challenge."

"Seriously? 'A challenge.' That's all you consider when you contract?"

"A nice tidy sum doesn't hurt."

"Now there you go! That's the hunter's spirit!"

"That's where you're wrong Bossak, and why you'll always be content to go after two credit, robbing hoods. You don't understand the serenity of the long hunt."

"That was down right poetic Fett, I didn't know you had it in you.

Four Hours Later

Gary and Dominik left the canteena draped across each others shoulders, each leaning against the other for support. Gary still had his helmet on but baring the new addition of one infamous bounty hunter's mark. Dominik's helmet was being carried by him in a loose grip. Together they staggered to the end of the block and paused, making sure to look both ways before they crossed the street. Lucky for them they did for just as they happened to glance up a red speeder pulled up at the light beside them. A young boy driving an old man, with two droids in the back. Gary, ever the observant one, spoke,"Hey! Aren't these the droids we're looking for?"

The old man looked right at him, "These aren't the droids you're looking for."

Gary more than a little drunk and confused blinked at the old man, tho he wouldn't have known. "These aren't the droids we're looking for?" Then he gulped, because he was pretty sure those Were the droids he's looking for. The old man told him to "move along," and Gary thought that was a bit off to, something he should say, but then, right then, Dominik bent over, clutching his stomach above his armor and violently vomited right next to the speeder. Gary looked again at the old man, glad he wouldn't be able to see his panic in his eyes and repeated the last words spoken, "Move along."

TBC

(A/N I know it's short, but I wanted to jam in my first guest star early.)


End file.
